


A Friendly Competition

by Arbryna



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: F/F, Foursome - F/F/F/F, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:45:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arbryna/pseuds/Arbryna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night of beer and conversation turns into something a lot more interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Friendly Competition

Evony’s not sure how she got here—sitting back in a lumpy armchair in Bo’s dumpster-chic living room, drinking Dark Belch and wondering if maybe it doesn’t suck as bad as she thought to be the unaligned succubus.

(Although she’s aligned _now_ , thank you very much, and Evony doesn’t plan on letting _that_ power slip through her grasp.)

When they all settled in to get wasted, Tamsin and Lauren naturally gravitated to opposite ends of the couch. The succubitch took it as an invitation to spread out across them both, her head in Tamsin’s lap and her feet in Lauren’s. Now Tamsin’s left arm is slung awkwardly over the back of the couch, propping up what must be her tenth beer, while her right strokes tentatively at Bo’s hair.

Evony never thought _shy_ or _uncertain_ would apply to Tamsin, hardass valkyrie extraordinaire. Insubordinate, reckless, foolish even, she could see, but nothing that would explain the color on those pale Scandinavian cheeks. Apparently all it takes is one succubus in her lap and she turns into a blushing teenager.

It’s so adorable Evony could puke.

“It must be nice to be you,” Evony observes with a smirk in Bo’s direction, lifting her beer back to her mouth.

“I can’t complain right now,” Bo says, her eyes half-lidded and her lips pulled into a lazy, intoxicated grin. Her boots are tossed in a corner somewhere, and Lauren’s got her thumbs digging into the soles of Bo’s feet. From the look of things, complaining is the last thing on Bo’s mind.

Evony catches Lauren’s eye, nods toward Bo’s feet. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“You never asked,” Lauren ripostes, her lips quirking in that smug way that just makes Evony want to sink her teeth into them. Her hands don’t slow, but her eyes linger on Evony’s longer than necessary.

“Oh, Lauren is the _best_ ,” Bo says, letting her eyes drift closed as Lauren shifts her grip. “She knows these pressure points that— _oh_.”

Lauren digs in deep, and Bo’s whole body arches into the couch. The long, guttural moan that slides out of Bo’s throat lingers in the air, and her head presses back against Tamsin’s thigh—which, predictably, makes Tamsin jerk her hand out of Bo’s hair like she’s been burned.

“Don’t stop,” Bo pouts, glancing up at Tamsin expectantly. Tamsin must be just drunk enough not to care about looking weak, because she caves instantly, tangling her fingers in brown locks almost reverently. Bo smiles, closing her eyes again as she relaxes into Tamsin’s lap.

Evony is the only one who catches the frown on Lauren’s lips—the one that turns to smug determination as seconds tick by. This time, when Lauren presses in with her thumb, the sound that fills the room is undeniably sexual. It would seem the doctor has many skills; Evony will definitely have to convince her to use this particular one on her.

“No fair.” Bo glares halfheartedly in Lauren’s direction. “You know what that does to me.”

A look passes between the two, hangs there heavy with desire. Evony wants to say something, to break the silence, but it seems a shame to waste all this delicious sexual tension. Maybe tonight’s not a total lost cause after all.

It’s Tamsin who clears her throat, quiet and distinct, shattering the moment. “I need more beer,” she mutters, slipping out from under Bo’s head.

Bo sits up, face flushed and eyes glowing faintly blue as they follow Tamsin to the kitchen. When she tears her gaze away, it just lands back on Lauren, and the look of hunger on her face gets sharper and more intense.

“I, uh, I need a bathroom break,” Bo offers feebly. Evony watches Lauren and Tamsin as they both watch Bo turn and head upstairs, wearing identical expressions of awe and arousal.

Once Bo is out of sight, Lauren spares a quick glance in Tamsin’s direction before she snorts and takes a swig of beer. “You know you don’t stand a chance, right?”

Tamsin’s brow furrows as she sinks back into her corner of the couch. “What?”

“With Bo,” Lauren clarifies.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Doc,” Tamsin chuckles, avoiding eye contact. “I think you’ve had a little too much to drink.”

“So that wasn’t petty jealousy just now, when Bo and I were—”

“Were what, gazing longingly into each other’s pants?” Tamsin finishes with a scoff. “Try discomfort. Nobody wants to see that shit.”

Evony smirks. She might beg to differ—the sight was certainly inspiring _something_ —but she’d rather see how this plays out.

“Oh please.” Lauren shifts on the couch, turning to point an accusing finger at Tamsin. “You are so hung up on her it’s ridiculous.”

Bright color suffuses Tamsin’s cheeks. “You’re one to talk,” she shoots back, averting her gaze as she chugs more of her beer.

“Everyone knows I love Bo,” Lauren replies smugly. Evony scowls at the pang of…something in her chest, pushes it aside in favor of enjoying the show. “But you see there’s a difference. I have a shot—” Lauren points at her chest, then gestures lazily toward Tamsin. “—whereas you don’t.”

“Oh really?” Tamsin sets her beer aside and leans toward Lauren, her eyes blazing with challenge. “Is that why I was the one keeping her lips busy all Yule night while you were playing drunken surgery with Dyson and Vex?”

“Ladies, ladies,” Evony chimes in. The idea forming in her head is just _too_ delicious not to try. “Let’s not argue. There are much better ways to settle this.”

“Settle what?” Bo asks, standing at the foot of the stairs looking halfway between alarmed and intrigued.

It’s almost comical how quickly their demeanor changes. In an instant Tamsin is back in her corner of the couch, and Lauren’s eyes are pleading with Evony to keep her mouth shut.

Sorry, honey. She's not wired that way. “These two were just fighting over whose fake penis is bigger,” Evony explains. She lifts an eyebrow as she meets Bo’s gaze. “Seems you’re quite a wanted woman, succubus.”

“Really?” Bo muses, tilting her head in thought. She catches her bottom lip in her teeth, glancing between Tamsin and Lauren. “And what’s your genius solution?”

“A friendly competition,” Evony says with a shrug. “They’ll take turns doing what they want to you. I’ll be the judge—decide who gets the best response.”

Tamsin puts her hands up, chuckling nervously. “Whoa—”

“Evony—” Lauren starts, her eyes wide and suspicious.

Bo’s eyes flash bright at the idea, but they quickly fade as she scowls. “And what, the winner takes all?” she asks archly. “I’m not a trophy.”

Evony rolls her eyes. “Good for you, honey. As for the prize, and your train wreck of a love life, I really don’t give a shit. I’m only in this for a good time.”

A slow smile creeps onto Bo’s lips as she glances between her two would-be lovers. They both look nervous and awkward as hell, but neither is very quick to argue. That seems to be answer enough for her, and her smile turns into a full-blown predatory grin. “Sounds like we should move this party upstairs.”

 

Tamsin follows hot on Bo’s heels, but Lauren stops, reaching out to hold Evony back as well. “What are you up to?”

“So _serious_ ,” Evony teases, smirking at the tight crease of Lauren’s forehead. “Why do I have to be up to something?”

Lauren chuckles, dry but still warm, and lifts an eyebrow. “What could you possibly be getting out of this?”

“What, the hottest show I’ve seen in decades isn’t enough?” Evony steps in closer, rests her fingers on Lauren’s hips. Her nose brushes against Lauren’s cheek as she leans in to whisper in her ear. “Come on, Doctor Lewis. You can’t tell me you’re not intrigued.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Lauren says, batting away Evony’s hand before she can investigate just how _intrigued_ Lauren is.

“Only because you make it that way,” Evony sighs breezily. Grinning, she presses a teasing kiss to Lauren’s lips. “Relax, sweetie. Just let go. It’ll be fun.”

 

 

***

 

They aren’t that far behind Bo and Tamsin, but Evony has to admit she might have underestimated the succubus. When she follows Lauren into the bedroom, Bo is straddling Tamsin’s lap at the end of the bed, hands shoving up and under her tank top. Bo’s own shirt is MIA—or at least that’s what Evony thinks before she catches a glimpse of it hanging off of an exposed beam.

“Well I guess we know who’s going first,” Evony remarks with a smirk.

Bo pulls away from Tamsin instantly, looking for all the world like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “Sorry,” she says, more to Lauren than anyone else. “Got carried away.”

Lauren looks like she can’t decide whether to be jealous or turned on. Evony smiles to herself, mentally adding another point under her name. Her instincts were definitely spot-on tonight—as always.

“That’s all right,” Evony says indulgently, stepping forward to trace the outline of Bo’s bra with her nails.

Bo shivers, tenses at the touch; she can’t figure out why Evony is touching her, and that’s exactly where Evony wants her. It’s so much more _fun_ that way. She pops open the clasp with a flick of her wrist, and Bo’s breath catches in her throat. Evony drags a finger up Bo’s spine, tucks Bo’s hair over one shoulder as she leans in.

“Of course, you understand we can’t have that happening during the competition.” Evony reaches into her back pocket, closes her fingers around the cold metal she lifted from Tamsin’s jacket just in case. “A girl always comes prepared.”

Bo gasps sharply as the handcuff slams shut around one of her wrists. “What is this, revenge?” she snarks, shaking the loose cuff pointedly.

“This,” Evony replies, closing another pair around Bo’s other wrist, “is to keep the competition fair. Can’t have you doing all the work.”

Bo looks skeptical, but she glances at Lauren, then Tamsin, and by the time her eyes come back around to Evony’s her decision is clear. She doesn’t fight when Evony slides off her bra, and stands up when directed so that she can be undressed to Evony’s satisfaction.

And yeah, Evony will admit—there is definitely an element of personal satisfaction involved here. She remembers that night all too well, how her eyes had roamed eagerly over the succubus’ body in anticipation of touching it. She’s not a needy woman, but a roll in the sheets with the most powerful succubus ever to exist? It’s gonna be a pretty incredible experience.

To have that dangled in front of her and then snatched away, all for some petty blackmail scheme…well. It didn’t leave the best taste in Evony’s mouth. She’s not going to turn down an opportunity to put the succubus in her place, especially one that comes with so much bonus sex.

Bo is stiff but compliant as Evony guides her to lie back on the bed. Her breasts bounce gently as she situates herself—and seriously, those things should be in a museum somewhere; Evony _knows_ art when she sees it.

But there are more important things demanding her attention; the first of which is getting the succubitch well and truly leashed. Evony grabs Bo’s wrists one by one, handcuffing them to the upper corners of the bed. Bo gives the chains a defiant tug, meeting Evony’s critical gaze head on.

Evony just chuckles. Her knee presses into the mattress between Bo’s legs as she hovers over the succubus, popping open the fly of Bo’s pants. Slowly, with a smirk firmly set on her face, Evony peels the leather down Bo’s legs.

“I guess you were telling the truth,” Tamsin remarks, giving Bo one of the filthiest smirks Evony has ever seen on her face. Evony glances back to Bo, whose brow gathers together for a moment before her cheeks flush dark.

“All right, all right,” Evony says, climbing off of the bed and dragging Bo’s pants along with her. “I can see you two are eager to get started. Just one more thing before you lustbunnies go at it.”

Her hand slides smoothly around her phone, pulls up the camera. The wary look on Bo’s face does nothing to detract from the sensuous curves of her body, cast into soft shadow by the dim light of the room. When she moves to put the phone away, Bo lifts an eyebrow.

“For my private collection,” Evony explains with an enigmatic smirk. She had to look at that damned picture of herself far too many times during that whole debacle. It’ll be nice to have something to replace the memory with.

Tamsin has her eyes fixed on Bo, leering down at the naked succubus with a passion that belies her usual cool demeanor. “Might have to get her to send me a copy.”

Bo’s eyes flash blue, and Evony takes her cue to back off. While Tamsin crawls onto the bed to straddle Bo, Evony sidles up beside Lauren. The doctor keeps glancing at the couple on the bed, then looking quickly away.

“Relax, Doctor Lewis,” Evony murmurs in Lauren’s ear, pressing herself up to Lauren’s back. “You might enjoy this.”

Lauren is tense. “I still don’t see the point of this,” she says under her breath, her eyes still gravitating toward the bed every other second.

“The point, my dear doctor,” Evony explains, slipping her left hand around to press flat against Lauren’s hipbone and hold her in place; the fingers of her right hand drag up under Lauren’s shirt, manicured nails scraping along soft skin, “is pleasure.”

As if on cue, Bo lets out a loud, sharp moan. Tamsin is kneeling between Bo’s legs now, arms wrapped around pale thighs while her mouth works at Bo’s cunt.

It’s a fascinating thing to watch, really. Tamsin is every bit as rough and demanding as Evony would expect, but there’s this softness that permeates everything she does. The way she cradles Bo’s thighs firmly, but not hard enough to bruise, the way she plants kisses all over Bo’s stomach and thighs like she’s trying to commit it all to memory.

She’s not fucking Bo, she’s _worshiping_ her.

Evony shivers at the thought, and turns her attention to the woman in her arms. Lauren’s abdomen is quivering under her fingertips, but there’s a stiff tension in Lauren’s shoulders that says she still needs some convincing.

Lauren’s breath catches in her throat as Evony’s teeth scrape over the pulse point in her neck. Lauren tastes like sweat and smells like beer, and Evony wants to devour her on the spot. When Evony’s fingers work their magic on the fly of Lauren’s pants, Lauren starts to relax, to sag back against Evony.

Pressing one last kiss to Lauren’s throat, Evony turns her focus to working her hand into Lauren’s underwear. Despite how uncomfortable and pointless Lauren says this is, her body tells a different story.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Evony murmurs, dragging her fingers through the slick heat gathered between Lauren’s legs.

“Arousal i-is more than a mere physiological response,” Lauren insists, clenching her fists at her sides. “There’s an undeniable emotional element that I would hardly think to find in this situation. Just because my body is having a positive reaction doesn’t irrefutably mean that I am.”

“Whatever you say, dear,” Evony purrs, tracing irregular designs around Lauren’s clit. “Personally, I refuse to believe you’ve never thought about what it would be like. I know the scientist in you is positively dripping to observe a succubus in action.”

Lauren swallows hard, her muscles tense with restraint. She’s not quite there, not yet, but it won’t take much to break this human. Evony notes—with pleasure—that Lauren hasn’t offered up a denial. Maybe it’s because she’s too focused on the show; her eyes haven’t stopped gravitating to Bo every few seconds.

A frown tugs at Evony’s lips; that last little realization is sour on her tongue. Here she is with her hand down Lauren’s pants, and Lauren still only has eyes for the succubitch.

The frown melts smoothly into a devious grin. She’ll just have to demand Lauren’s attention. Her fingers press against Lauren’s clit, hard; Lauren’s knees come close to buckling, and her hands fly to Evony’s arms to steady herself.

“Easy,” Evony murmurs into Lauren’s ear. She slides her feet forward to bookend Lauren’s, keeping her steady, while her fingers slide down to tease at slick flesh. She smirks. “Not reacting, huh?”

On the bed, Bo is arched up mid-orgasm, a solid stream of blue chi flowing into her mouth. Tamsin is stiff, eyes wide as Bo feeds, her fingers still buried between Bo’s legs.

Lauren is hardly breathing. Evony is close enough to hear the slow whisper of each shallow gasp, to hear how the air catches in Lauren’s throat as Evony’s fingers slide into her.

Across the room, Evony glimpses a full-length mirror and grins. It only takes a few degrees of turning and she has Lauren right where she wants her.

She can see the look on Lauren’s face, raw desire edged with lingering hesitation; how Lauren’s eyes are half-closed, still fixed on the bed even as she grinds down against Evony’s hand. Evony closes her teeth around the skin of Lauren’s throat, biting and sucking in a way she knows will bruise. Even when Lauren steps up for her turn to fuck Bo, she’ll be wearing the evidence of this prior claim.

Evony tries not to think about why all of a sudden her mind is filled with things like marking and claiming and jealousy and the potential vagaries of dating a human. It’s just sex. Everything, from the initial kiss to their recent “arrangement” to tonight’s unexpected events. She just wants to save face. Can’t let herself be shown up by some upstart baby fae, after all.

So Evony adds another finger, curls them sharply inside. Lauren grunts, and her head falls back against Evony’s shoulder as the base of Evony’s palm slams against Lauren’s clit with each thrust of her hand. For added measure, she slides her other hand up from Lauren’s hip, squeezes at Lauren’s breast through her bra.

Lauren’s got one hand wrapped around the back of Evony’s thigh and the other tangled in her hair. Blunt nails dig into Evony’s scalp, fingers tug at her hair, and Evony is _not_ one to take orders, but she wanted to kiss Lauren anyway—to nibble up her jawline, to lean in when Lauren cranes her neck to capture her mouth. It doesn’t count as an order if she was going to do it anyway.

Whatever is happening on the bed might as well be in another universe now. All Evony cares about is the heat clenching around her fingers, the tongue and teeth and lips colliding with her own. With her hand clamped over Lauren’s breast, she can feel the human heart inside pounding a rapid tattoo against Lauren’s ribs. It feels strangely intimate...fluttery, in an uncomfortable kind of way. Like it’s more than just sex.

Which is ridiculous, of course. Evony tugs at Lauren’s lower lip with her teeth before kissing back down Lauren’s throat, while her hand works harder and faster in Lauren’s cunt. She presses the heel of her hand _hard_ against Lauren, pushes in as far as her fingers will go, and then Lauren is shuddering stiff against her, held up only by the support of Evony’s body.

Evony tells herself the warm feeling suffusing her chest is smug pride, a petty reaction to managing to wrest Lauren’s attention away from Bo, at least for a few moments. Beating a succubus at her own game is pretty priceless. That’s all it is.

“Tell me.”

Bo’s voice rings out from the bed, drawing Evony’s attention back to the competition. Tamsin is straddling Bo’s hips with her own hand in her jeans—and from the eager look on Bo’s face, and the slightly self-conscious one on Tamsin’s, Evony gathers this was Bo’s idea.

For her part, Bo is looking up at Tamsin like she’s imagining all the things she would do if her hands were free. Her fingers are clenched into fists, her wrists pulling hard at the handcuffs as she licks her lips. Her voice is dark and thick. “I want to know what you feel like.”

“Shit,” Tamsin groans, her free hand clenching uselessly at her own denim-clad thigh. Her arms flex, toned muscle casting dim shadows over pale skin.

“Come on,” Bo urges again, rocking her hips up against Tamsin’s. Despite the fact that she just fed generously from Tamsin, Bo looks undeniably _hungry_. “Tell me.”

“Wet,” Tamsin finally groans, her eyelids weighted almost completely closed. “So fucking wet.”

“Mm,” Bo moans agreeably. Her bare foot drags across the sheets, shifting her thigh under Tamsin. “For me?”

“Fuck,” Tamsin swears through her teeth. “You know it’s for you.”

“Prove it.” Bo greets Tamsin’s raised eyebrow with a sultry smile. “Give us a taste.”

Tamsin’s teeth dig into her bottom lip as she pulls her hand out of her pants. Her hand trembles as she reaches out to trace Bo’s lips with a wet fingertip. Bo parts her lips almost instantly, pulling Tamsin’s fingers inside and dragging her tongue over each digit. When she’s satisfied, she lets Tamsin’s fingers fall from her mouth, her heated gaze locked on Tamsin’s face the whole time.

In a blur of motion Tamsin rocks forward, pinning Bo’s body beneath her as she leans in to taste herself on Bo’s lips. Her hand creeps down between them, back into her pants, and it’s not clear whether she’s putting more energy into getting herself off or kissing Bo, but whatever she’s doing is working for her. Her free arm shakes with the effort of holding her up over Bo, and amid the lewd wet sounds of kissing Evony can clearly hear Tamsin’s moans getting quicker and more urgent.

There’s a long moment then, right after Tamsin comes. It’s almost like Bo and Tamsin are in their own little world; Bo looks at Tamsin like she’s found the answer to some life-altering question, while Tamsin is dazed, looking down at Bo like she might not be real.

Evony slides her hand out of Lauren’s drenched panties, smirks as Lauren awkwardly refastens her pants. “Brava, ladies.” She brings her hands together in a delicate mockery of applause, savoring how the fingers of her right hand slip and stick against the palm of her left. “Although I do have to dock points for lack of originality. Bo’s hands are bound, not immobile, and there’s always that sharp tongue. Surely a centuries-old valkyrie could be more creative than to resort to her _own_ hand.”

As soon as Tamsin looks away from Bo, her expression becomes harder, more confident. She quirks an eyebrow at Evony as she sits back on her thighs. “I was just giving the lady what she wanted,” Tamsin retorts with a smirk. “That’s what this whole contest is about, right?” Her eyes drift to Lauren’s debauched state, and her eyebrow hikes higher, suspicious.

“Well, I suppose you do have a point,” Evony concedes, too easily. She’s not in the mood to deal with the questions she can see on Tamsin’s face, about just how close she is to the good doctor. Before Tamsin can voice any of them, Evony turns back to Lauren, drags sticky fingertips over quivering lips. Lauren’s tongue slides out to meet them; her eyes are dark chocolate, hot and thick, drawing Evony in, and it takes an unmentionable amount of effort to keep her unaffected persona intact. “Ready to step up to the plate, Dr. Lewis?”

 

Tamsin takes her leave of Bo and the bed, but not before Bo drags her back for one last languid kiss. Her and Lauren pass each other with barely a glance, tension sparking between them like metal on metal. She comes to rest against Bo’s dresser, crossing her arms over her chest and pretending not to look as Lauren and Bo become reacquainted.

Evony, on the other hand, couldn’t be more captivated by the sight. Lauren pauses at the edge of the bed, shaking fingers working at the buttons on her shirt, sliding the garment back over her shoulders. Her back is to Evony, but the mirror on the other side of the room shows a sliver of her image, of fabric dragging away from bare skin. When Lauren reaches back to unhook her bra, the muscles in her back and arms all flexing and bunching, Evony decides she definitely needs a distraction if she hopes to retain any dignity.

A glance over at Tamsin gives her plenty to think about. Evony hasn’t known the valkyrie very long—oh, sure, they probably crossed paths a few times over the centuries, but never anything memorable—but in that short time she thought she’d had her figured out. The misanthropic loner type, too much anger and sass for her own good. She was powerful, but not exactly a threat when it came to politics, so Evony just kept tabs and waited for the day she’d have to sentence the bitch to death for running her mouth just a little too far.

She could never have predicted _this_ Tamsin. This newly reborn creature who wears her emotions like neon fucking lights, who would lay her life down for something as inconsequential as a _human_. God, it’s like another Bo, only worse—because Evony _knew_ the arrogant bitch, the hardass who could get shit done. That woman is all but unrecognizable now, nervous fingers curling around the molding of the dresser, cheeks flushed as she sneaks glances at the bed.

One of these days, Evony is going to figure out just what the fuck it is that makes everyone fall in love with that damn succubus.

Something tells her Tamsin might have some intimate knowledge on the subject. A sly smirk tugs at her mouth as she sidles up to the dresser, leaning a hip against it as she rakes her eyes over Tamsin’s figure. Oh, she could have some _fun_ with this one.

“Enjoying the show?” Evony murmurs, her breath hot in Tamsin’s ear.

Tamsin scowls and crosses her arms over her chest, pointedly looking away from Evony.

Evony just slides closer, slipping her arm behind Tamsin’s back. When she leans in, her breast brushes against Tamsin’s bicep; she can feel it tense in response. “Not up for conversation?” she teases. “Or are you too busy worrying about whether or not you measure up?”

“Screw you.” Tamsin’s voice is harsh, hostile, but her eyes are anxious, brows knitted together, and Evony can barely contain her smug satisfaction at hitting the nail precisely on the head.

“Mm, now there’s a thought,” Evony ripostes, dragging her fingertips across Tamsin’s forearm. She definitely wouldn’t be opposed to a little taste of this valkyrie.

As Evony’s fingers skim higher, tracing the outline of Tamsin’s breasts, they’re caught in an iron grip. “Not interested,” Tamsin says dryly, shoving Evony’s hand away.

Evony lifts an eyebrow. “Your loss,” she says breezily, turning her back to the dresser and her eyes to the bed.

Lauren is completely naked now, her upper body pressed to Bo’s as she presses kisses along the line of Bo’s jaw.

“I wanna touch you,” Bo whines, shaking petulantly at the handcuffs. Her eyes glow a soft, deep blue under drooping lids.

“I know, baby,” Lauren murmurs reassuringly, continuing to kiss her way up to Bo’s ear. “But you can’t right now. Just lie back and let me touch you.”

It’s so disgustingly intimate, and Evony is struck by a sudden urge to toss Lauren over her shoulder and storm out. She shakes her head to dislodge the idea, glancing over at Tamsin instead. The valkyrie looks even more anxious and uncomfortable than before—and quite a bit more melancholy as well.

“Wow, you are even more pathetic than I thought,” Evony muses, tearing her eyes away from the bed.

Tamsin’s head snaps around this time, her eyes blazing. “You don’t know shit about me,” she whispers harshly through her teeth.

Evony smirks. “I know that you gave up everything for the succubitch once already,” she points out, enjoying the little flash of anguish that flits through Tamsin’s eyes, “and I have a sneaking suspicion you wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.”

Scowling deeper, Tamsin looks away again. “What do you care?”

“I don’t,” Evony says with a carefree shrug. She lets her smirk fade, until just a hint of it remains; she looks more menacing that way and she knows it. “I just like screwing with your head.”

Tamsin scoffs at the idea. “Whatever. Like you even could.”

“Oh, my dear valkyrie,” Evony tuts, leaning in close to Tamsin’s ear again. “I already have.”

Bo takes this moment to let out a sharp moan, followed by a quick succession of gasps and whimpers. Lauren’s shifted to straddle one of Bo’s thighs, lifting the other knee to Bo’s chest as she grinds their hips together. They move together in a way that makes it crystal clear just how much they’ve practiced, rocking each other higher and higher until they’re both crying out in quick panting breaths.

Evony isn’t aware of clenching her fists until she feels her nails digging hard crescents into her palms. Her feet carry her to the side of the bed as Bo and Lauren push one another over the edge, and when Bo’s leg falls from Lauren’s grip, Evony is there to catch it. She drags her nails along the inside of a soft thigh, savoring how the flesh quivers under her touch.

“What,” Bo mumbles around a mouthful of blonde hair. Her voice is sex incarnate, husky and deep and just the right amount of playful. “Does the big bad Morrigan want a turn now that I’m all helpless and docile?”

She considers it—she’d be an idiot not to—but Evony finds her interest in taking the succubus for a test drive has waned. What she wants—what she _really_ wants—is something she hates herself for even thinking about. But she can’t very well say that, now can she?

“Actually—” Evony says, shifting to sit more comfortably on the bed. She drags her fingernails up Bo’s side, over her ribs, up her arm—coming to rest on the metal clamped around Bo’s wrist. Despite how hard Bo has been struggling against her restraints, the skin of her wrists is smooth and unblemished, healed by the chi from her lovers. Useful trick. “—I find that these things are a lot more fun without boundaries.”

“Anything goes, huh?” Bo’s eyes flash bright blue with interest. “Get these handcuffs off and I’ll rock your world.”

“Mmm…maybe later.” Evony’s fingers drift to Lauren’s hair of their own accord as she pulls away from Bo, and she forces a smirk onto her lips. “For now I was thinking that our valiant competitors could use some attention of their own. I’ll take one blonde, you take the other?”

Her heartbeat echoes in her chest as she waits for an argument, waits for Lauren to cling to Bo and stick her with Tamsin. But Lauren’s head shifts, and the eyes peering out at Evony from beneath a chaos of blonde hair are dark with desire, even if it is conflicted.

“What do you say,” Evony purrs, her gaze fixed on Lauren as she fishes the handcuff keys out of her pocket, “wanna play doctor?”

She doesn’t wait for confirmation before tossing the keys in Tamsin’s direction. If Tamsin catches them or not, Evony couldn’t say, because Lauren is pushing herself back up on her knees, shifting close enough to push Evony onto her back on the mattress.

Lauren’s naked body presses down against her own, and Evony can feel every last bit of bare skin burning through her clothes. For a moment, while they’re just lying there looking at one another, Evony sees the ghost of a question flicker through Lauren’s eyes, something soft and confused and so real that it’s suddenly hard to breathe.

“I think you may be missing the point,” Evony says with a smirk, cursing the tiny quaver in her voice. She lifts an eyebrow, glancing down at their position. “It’s my turn to be on top.”

“Mm, I don’t think so.” Whatever vulnerability might have been present moments ago is gone, retreated behind walls of casual sex, detached desire. But _damn_ —however guarded it might be, that sultry smirk on Lauren’s lips is positively _sinful_. Lauren sits up, straddling Evony’s hips, as her fingers start to slide under Evony’s shirt. “You already had your turn, if I recall correctly.”

Shit. Evony can’t really argue that. Not that she necessarily wants to; she hates not being in charge, especially in front of other people, but she’s intimately acquainted with Lauren’s…talents in bed. She can at least play along, for now.

“Very well,” Evony replies, arching up to push her breasts against Lauren’s hands. “Do your worst, doctor.”

Lauren doesn’t answer the challenge with words; her mouth is too busy claiming Evony’s, her nails scraping along Evony’s breast as she tugs the bra aside to slip her hand inside.

The bed shifts, and there’s a clicking sound up above their heads, metal on metal. It’s followed by a quick, hungry moan, the slide of hands on denim.

“You’re in for a treat, valkyrie,” Bo purrs.

Lauren’s mouth drags along Evony’s jaw and down her throat, and as she shifts her head to grant better access, Evony can see Bo’s fingers deftly working at the fly of Tamsin’s jeans.

“Please,” Tamsin scoffs, raising a skeptical eyebrow. Her armor is all the more brittle for the obvious emotion hidden behind it. “I’ve been around for a while. You think I haven’t had a succubus or two over the years?”

“Mmm…” Bo drags out the hum, slipping her fingertips under the hem of Tamsin’s underwear to tease at the skin beneath. “Maybe, but you’ve never had me.”

“She’s right,” Lauren offers with a slight tremor in her voice. Evony tries not to scowl at the interruption, at the sudden absence of hot lips on her neck. “It’s…like nothing you’ll ever experience again, it’s—it’s incredible.”

Irritation pricks under Evony’s skin; at least, she tells herself it’s irritation—it’s certainly nothing so pedestrian, so _human_ as jealousy—and that it’s desire that makes her drag her nails up Lauren’s bare thighs, digging in just a little too hard.

Lauren just smirks back down at her, like she somehow knows what Evony hasn’t yet _acknowledged_ , let alone bothered to figure out. Then that wet heat is back, teeth nipping down her jugular, and clever fingers are pinching and tugging at her nipple, and Evony is only barely aware of Tamsin letting out a sharp little gasp.

“You were saying?” Bo’s voice is smug, prideful, with a dash of something more complicated. Evony doesn’t look at her, doesn’t bother trying to figure out what it means; she’s far more interested in how Lauren’s hands are slipping under her back, how Lauren’s mouth is once again attached to her neck.

There’s a beat, then a deep, wanton sound somewhere between a whimper and moan. “That’s not fair,” Tamsin whines. Bo must be using her powers.

“Who said anything about fair?” Bo ripostes. Tamsin’s shirt goes flying over Evony’s head, landing somewhere behind the bed. “I only promised incredible.”

Point for the succubus. Evony waits patiently for Lauren to strip her of shirt and bra before she grabs hold of Lauren’s hips—forget rules and turns, she’s determined to give the good doctor a new meaning of the word incredible. It’s difficult to maneuver, with only half the bed to work with—Bo and Tamsin are doing a fine job of taking up every last bit of their half, all rocking and shifting and flailing limbs—but Evony manages to at least put herself on equal footing with Lauren, kneeling face to face.

Lauren puts up token resistance— _she_ hasn’t forgotten that it’s her turn—but with Evony’s fingernails dragging up her sides, and Evony’s mouth claiming her own, she succumbs to the feeling. Lauren’s long fingers tangle in a dark riot of curls; Evony feels nails scraping across her scalp and grins approvingly into Lauren’s lips.

It’s then that it happens, when she thinks she’s won. With that grin, that momentary indulgence, Evony let her guard down just enough for Lauren to push her back onto the bed. She glares up at Lauren, disgruntled and ready to rise up again, but something in Lauren’s face stops her.

For fuck’s sake, Evony does _not_ cede control this easily. But there’s something in Lauren’s eyes, in the way she kisses Evony with a ferocity that speaks more of distraction than desire. An elbow—Evony is pretty sure it’s Tamsin’s—knocks into Lauren’s hip, and Lauren tenses visibly at the contact. With a resigned huff, Evony stretches her legs back out, hooking her feet behind Lauren’s thighs to tug her closer. At least she’s getting laid, right?

Her concession is rewarded with Lauren’s mouth closing over her breast, sharp teeth scraping at a nipple before a hot tongue slides out to soothe it. Evony arches into it almost without thinking, chasing more and more of that molten feeling Lauren sends rushing through her veins. She’s the one who can burn people to ash with her touch, but sometimes it feels like Lauren has some fae abilities of her own; how else could she make such a basic physiological process feel like a goddamned spiritual experience?

Ugh. Enough thinking.

Lauren seems to agree, because she moves on from Evony’s chest, trailing lips and tongue down a taut abdomen until her chin hits denim. Her fingers deftly pop the button of Evony’s jeans, and the zipper pulls apart as Lauren tugs both jeans and designer lingerie down to Evony’s knees, leaving her to kick them off the rest of the way.

Distantly, Evony can hear the sound of Bo and Tamsin murmuring to each other in low voices. It’s interesting, and a bit amusing—she didn’t figure those two for sweet nothings—but not nearly as important as Lauren’s hands pressing at the underside of Evony’s thighs, as Lauren’s hips rocking hard into her own. Slick flesh slides along slicker skin, and Evony finds herself grateful that she managed to resist the urge to kill her waxer for that slip-up last month—she’s glad there’s nothing in the way of this feeling.

Then it’s gone, cold air hitting damp flesh, but the urge to protest disappears when Evony sees the intent in Lauren’s eyes. Arousal coils heavy and hot in her belly as Lauren kneels between her legs and starts pressing searing kisses along the line of her hips. By the time she feels warm breath on her cunt, Evony’s eyes are shut tight in anticipation, her fingers clenching around the sheets at her sides.

She doesn’t see it coming, but she feels the snap of cold metal around her wrist. Her eyes shoot open, but the hand she raises to fight back is caught in Tamsin’s iron grip. Bo keeps hold of the wrist she cuffed, the chain rattling as she moves to straddle Evony’s chest.

“You really should have a turn,” Bo purrs seductively. She hands Evony’s wrist off to Tamsin, who promptly snaps the other cuff on. “It’s only fair.”

So  _that's_  what the whispering was about. Evony quirks an eyebrow. She could get out of this right now, if she wanted—hell, she’s pretty sure the succubitch is _moral_ enough to stop if she says no—but she can’t say she’s not intrigued. “Fair would be having _you_ at _my_ mercy.”

“This is what you get,” Bo says with a smirk, leaning down until her lips are a whisper away from Evony’s. Her breasts are full and heavy, pressing down against Evony’s in a way that feels utterly divine. “Take it or leave it.” Then, in an instant, she’s back where she was, her cunt hot and wet against Evony’s ribs. “Of course, if you think you’re not up to snuff…”

A growl rumbles in Evony’s throat as she jerks up into Bo. Bitch did _not_ just insult her abilities. “Oh, succuslut. You have no idea what you’re in for.”

Bo’s smirk only deepens. She shifts up until the heat of her sex floods Evony’s senses, hovering just out of reach. “Why don’t you show me.”

Evony has tasted her fair share of women, but there’s always something about a succubus—a sweet, complex flavor amid the salty tang that makes her want _more_. Bo’s cunt presses hot against her lips, flesh swollen and smooth and dripping down Evony’s chin. This would be easier with the use of her hands, but they’re currently being pressed into the mattress by Tamsin’s firm grip. No matter; Evony is nothing if not creative.

She falters when Lauren’s tongue slides teasingly through her own abundant arousal. Bo whimpers as Evony’s teeth scrape against her clit harder than intended, but it doesn’t faze her for long; her hips move fluidly against Evony’s face like they were made for this rhythm—which, Evony supposes, they were.

Lauren’s hands press Evony’s hips down into the bed while she sucks Evony’s engorged flesh into her mouth. Evony feels long, warm fingers tugging at her own, rearranging them, but it’s all she can do to keep track of her own mouth right now.

“Hmm…” Tamsin muses, low and husky. “Bo, would you say these hands are bound, but not immobile?”

“That’s—mmm,” Bo pauses when Evony’s tongue flicks into her, grinds her hips a little slower to savor it. “That’s exactly how I would describe them.”

It doesn’t click with Evony, what they’re talking about, until she feels slick flesh under her fingertips. Tamsin’s knees settle on either side of Evony’s arms, and before Evony knows it, she’s fucking Bo and Tamsin both while Lauren laps at her cunt.

Evony’s eyes slam shut. There’s no point in trying to focus anymore—at least, on anything other than pleasure. Lauren’s fingers sink into her, stretching full and tight, and _damn_ , she’s going to make them all pay for this later, somehow, but for now all she can do is work her jaw, her tongue, her hips, her fingers.

One of Bo’s hands joins Evony’s between Tamsin’s legs, and Tamsin lets out a sharp groan as two fingers slide in alongside Evony’s. They fuck Tamsin together like that—well, Bo does most of the work—until Lauren’s fingers twist and curl inside and Evony can’t move at all anymore, can’t feel anything but the heat building in her groin, ready to combust.

It’s hard to say who comes when, in what order. Evony just knows that everything in her tightens, tenses as pleasure sizzles through her veins; that there’s a rush of moisture against her chin; that Tamsin’s cunt is squeezing around her fingers and Bo’s like it’ll never let go.

Eventually Lauren lets up, switching to long, soothing strokes of her tongue along throbbing flesh. Tamsin dismounts first, collapsing against the headboard, and Bo joins her soon after, draping herself across Tamsin’s bent legs. Lauren slides up Evony’s body, holds out an open hand to Tamsin and Bo.

Tamsin rolls her eyes and reaches around Bo to the nightstand, passing the handcuff keys to Lauren. Her hand settles on Bo’s bare side, fingers drifting back and forth. Bo hums at the contact, burrows into Tamsin as her own fingers trace idle designs across Tamsin’s thighs.

Evony rubs at her wrists once Lauren frees them from their bonds, already thinking of which bracelets she’ll have to wear to cover the bruises. Lauren sets the cuffs and key down on the nightstand before collapsing alongside Evony on the bed.

It’s not _cuddling_ , not exactly. Lauren’s knee is resting warm against Evony’s thigh, and her fingers are pressing into the mattress mere centimeters from Evony’s side, but that’s where it ends. Evony doesn’t _cuddle_.

Strange, though. It still feels somehow comfortable, lying here like this. A part of her wouldn’t mind if Lauren scooted a little closer, rested a head on her shoulder.

And _that_ is where Evony draws the line. “Well,” she says breezily, pushing herself up to sit at the edge of the bed. Her clothes are around here somewhere. “This was…interesting, but it’s late. Work night and all.” Her pants are bunched up on the floor at the foot of the bed; Evony stands up and steps into them, turning to give Bo a pointed smirk. “We can’t all seduce our way out of paying bills.”

She spots her shirt in a dark corner at the back of the room; she’s halfway there before Tamsin pipes up.

“Hey, you never declared a winner.”

No, she supposes she didn’t. To be honest, she never had any intention of actually _judging_ anything. _Something_ had to be done about the sexual tension sparking around the living room, and Evony is a woman who gets shit done.

“I think we’re all winners tonight,” Bo replies, smug and sated with a touch of wanton lust.

Evony turns around as she clasps her bra. Tamsin’s fingers have drifted from Bo’s side down to her breast, rolling a nipple between thumb and forefinger absent-mindedly. Bo is similarly distracted, her own fingers tracing the crease where Tamsin’s thighs are pressed together as she idly drops kisses onto Tamsin’s hip.

Lauren rolls toward Evony, turning her back on the pair. “Can I—I mean, would you mind giving me a ride?”

“Mm, you don’t have to go,” Bo insists. It might be more convincing if the words weren’t half-muffled by Tamsin’s skin. “The night’s not over yet.”

“Certainly not for some of us,” Evony remarks dryly before turning her attention to Lauren, who looks a little uncertain, and a lot uncomfortable. Her lips curve into a smirk as she nods to Lauren. “Come on, Doctor Lewis. Let’s get out of here and leave the lustbunnies to it.”

A grateful smile flashes across Lauren’s lips before her confident mask falls back into place. Evony doesn’t bother pretending not to watch as Lauren hunts down her own clothing; it’s not as good a show as watching her take them off, but why waste an opportunity?

When she’s dressed, Lauren stands awkwardly beside the bed. Bo is straddling Tamsin’s lap now, and she’s busying herself with sucking on every square inch of the valkyrie’s neck. “So, um, I’ll—I’ll see you around, Bo.”

“Mm, wait—” Bo tears herself away from Tamsin, turning to reach out and pull Lauren in for a kiss. For a moment, Evony thinks Lauren might change her mind; she kind of melts against Bo’s lips, and a little whimper catches in her throat when Bo pulls away. “Don’t be a stranger,” Bo purrs with a sultry grin.

Lauren’s eyes flit from Bo, to Tamsin, then to Evony, like she’s weighing her options. Evony forces her hand, sauntering to the French doors leading to the stairs and holding one open. “After you, doctor.”

After a slight hesitation, Lauren walks to the door. She stops in front of Evony, leaning in close with a smirk on her lips. “Evony,” she murmurs, her voice low and breathy and full of promise. “Call me Lauren.”

Evony’s teeth sink into her lower lip as she watches Lauren stride out the door. Maybe the night _isn’t_ over yet.

You know, Evony wasn’t a competitor in that silly little game, but somehow she feels like she came out the winner tonight.


End file.
